


Point, Focus, Pressure

by Ningikuga



Category: That Guy with the Glasses/Channel Awesome
Genre: BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ningikuga/pseuds/Ningikuga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phelous, Snob, a hotel room, some toys, and some edgeplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point, Focus, Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://tgwtg-meme.livejournal.com/1329.html?thread=435249#t435249). I'm personally not 100% sure what the original prompter meant by "D/s, but not too psychological," but my best guess is that they meant "no roleplay," so what we have here is some very light D/s, somewhat heavier S&M with a variation on the vampire glove, and a side of light B&D with restraints and a cockring.
> 
> As usual, this work is intended to depict the characters/personae, not real people, and absolutely no implications about the people who write and play those characters are intended or should be inferred.

Snob kicked off his shoes and dropped heavily into the hotel room’s sole sorry excuse for an armchair. “I don’t know why I do these anymore,” he groaned, peeling off a sock and rubbing his foot.

“To meet and greet your adoring public, of course,” Phelous said, latching the chain and ambling over to sit on the corner of the bed. “All eleven of them.”

“I’ll have you know I had at least two dozen people in my autograph line,” Snob corrected him. “That wasn’t the problem; it was the panel discussion where those two cinematographers from California yammered for sixty minutes out of ninety.” He tossed the other sock behind him and stretched his toes. “Being talked over is surprisingly exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” Phelous replied, rolling his eyes. “Is there anything else on the schedule for tonight, or are we done for the evening?”

Snob dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled down the screen. “There’s a cocktails screening of that art film from Finland at nine,” he reported. “Looks like everything else is invitation-only.”

“Pass on the art film,” Phelous said. “I remember the description, and while musings on the nature of nature and humanity may be interesting when you live someplace warm that isn’t constantly trying to kill you, I’ve had plenty. Any of the closed events look like they’re worth crashing?”

“Not unless you want cheap booze and dull conversation,” Snob answered. “Wait, my mistake - one of them has wheatgrass smoothies and dull conversation instead.”

Phelous clucked his tongue and yanked his polo off over his head. “Sounds pretty boring,” he commented. “I bet we can find something way more interesting to do.”

Waggling his eyebrows, Snob leaned towards him and crooned, “I’m all ears.”

“Nah, I’ve seen bigger.” Phelous shucked his trousers and bent over to rummage through his luggage. “Go ahead and get out of the suit; we don’t want to have to send it to the dry cleaners in the middle of the film festival.”

“Sure thing,” Snob replied, his fingers dancing down his button placket. When Phelous casually gave him orders and expected them to be obeyed (as opposed to dissected and argued with, which could also be fun but was less likely to get him laid), it usually meant he’d picked up a new toy for them to play with. Snob was curious what it might be this time, and whether Phelous had had any trouble getting it through airport security.

His curiosity was not immediately satiated; what Phelous removed from the suitcase was a smaller case, not entirely unlike an old-fashioned doctor’s black bag. Probably multiple toys, then; Snob bounced lightly on his toes in anticipation.

“Remember when we were in Chicago,” Phelous drawled, “and we discovered how much you liked me scratching my nails down your back?” He opened the black case and removed an assortment of condoms and lube, setting them on the side table and poking deeper into the bag.

“I certainly do!” Snob wriggled out of his trousers and boxers and bounced onto the bed, grinning broadly. “And I must admit, that was a surprise, but it was a hell of a good one.”

Phelous dropped four velcro cuffs and four short sections of rope on the bed. “Be a good boy and put the cuffs on,” he said offhandedly, reaching into the case with both hands. “So I thought we might play with that a little bit.” He removed his left hand, spread his fingers out, and waved it in Snob’s direction.

He was wearing a glove that Snob couldn’t help thinking of as Freddy Kreuger Lite. It was made of something black and stretchy that was reasonably close to leather in texture, with a shiny, gently curved stainless steel claw extending from the tip of each finger. A closer look told him that the claws came to points, not blades, although they still looked quite sharp.

“How does that make you feel?” asked Phelous, in a carefully neutral tone.

“Horny as hell,” Snob answered gleefully, slipping first two cuffs over his ankles. “Is that an actual sex toy or a horror movie prop?”

“Does it matter?” Phelous shrugged broadly, then rummaged through the bag again. “I got it from a bondage shop, but I suspect I could have ordered the same thing from a prophouse.” He set something small down next to the condoms, then grabbed one of the ropes and turned back towards the bed. “Get where you want to be,” he commanded with a half-grin as he removed the glove. “You’re going to be there for a while.”

Snob finished adjusting the second wrist cuff and scooted to the exact geometric center of the bed, reaching towards the bedposts with his fingers and toes. “How’s this?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at his partner.

Phelous either didn’t notice or didn’t react. “Fine,” he said, and slipped a lark’s-head knot through the ring on Snob’s left ankle cuff. He was clearly working for speed rather than elegance; he lashed the other end to the bedpost with a plain slipped square knot and went on to the next ring.

In other circumstances, that level of haste would have bothered Snob, maybe even upset him, but at the moment, he was enjoying it. It meant Phelous was interested enough in the main course to rush through the appetizers. That was generally true of the velcro cuffs, too; if Phelous wanted to spend an hour tying Snob up, he would, but that wasn’t the main attraction tonight.

In a few minutes, Snob was spread-eagled on the bed, naked, wriggling, and already hard. Phelous inspected him carefully, watching as he tugged at the ropes. “Eh, seven out of ten,” he mumbled, reaching for one of the condoms, or maybe the lube - his hand was out of Snob’s field of view at the moment.

“Really?” Snob snorted. “And here I’ve been walking a lot, too.”

“Not you, silly,” Phelous replied, shaking his head. “My rope job. It’ll do, but it’s not my best work.” He tossed the glove onto the bed next to the Snob.

“As long as it holds me in place, it’s doing it’s - hey, what’s that?” Snob interrupted himself as Phelous swooped over him and wrapped something around his cock and balls.

Phelous flashed his eyebrows up at the Snob. “It’s an adjustable leather cockring,” he explained. “Remember how last time I told you to wait for me, and then you came anyway?”

Snob’s eyes widened. “That was because you were jacking me off so hard,” he protested. “Not because -”

“It won’t matter this time,” Phelous said, cutting him off. “Because if you can come before I do with that on, you’ve got some mystical dick powers going on.” He tugged on the clawed glove and curled his fingers. “If you’re good, and if you can take enough of this, then I’ll let you come with me. But not before. Got it?”

Snob swallowed. “Yes, sir,” he replied, trying to sound meek.

“Good.” Phelous gave him a cruel smirk and climbed onto the bed, into the space between Snob’s legs. “Let me hear you,” he commanded, “but don’t scare the neighbors.” He traced one clawed finger down the inside of Snob’s thigh.

God, that thing was sharp! Snob hissed as it trailed down the tender flesh, imagining the red line it was leaving in its wake.

“Nice,” Phelous whispered. “I could write on you with this. I think I will.” His index finger flashed across Snob’s stomach, leaving a searing trail. “There,” he purred, “I put my name on you. Now everyone will know you belong to me.”

Snob exhaled, tugging gently against the ropes. The sharp points hurt when Phelous pressed down, but just dragged across the skin, the sensation was more scratchy than painful. “It might be easier for me to take that, sir,” he gasped, “if you used more than one claw at once.”

Phelous nodded. “Okay, then we’ll start with that and work our way back to one finger. I want to see if I can draw blood with these, but that’ll be the finale,” he said, and raked the full hand of claws down Snob’s chest.

That stung, but it was much easier to take. Snob arched his back into the motion and felt himself getting even harder. He wouldn’t have bet that was possible.

Phelous explored him with the claws, leaving marks down Snob’s arms, down his legs, skating up the insides of his thighs again, toying with the tender skin between his navel and his dick. Snob hissed when the sensation was too strong for him, huffed when it was too gentle (which wasn’t often), and moaned when it was just right, when the hurt flashing down his nerves sparked delight along with it.

Four claws became three, three became two, and two became one again, a single pick-sharp point that Phelous brought closer and closer to Snob’s groin, dancing close and then spinning away to write a dozen claims of ownership against Snob’s ribs. Somewhere in there Snob had shut his eyes closed; he opened them to Phelous hovering above him, propped on his knees and one hand as he followed the claw with flashing eyes.

“You would not believe how good you look right now,” Phelous murmured. “Think you can suck me, or do you need a pillow?”

“I’ll be fine,” Snob gasped, “just don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Phelous said with a snake’s smile; he climbed off the bed, still trailing one claw down Snob’s leg, then climbed back on facing the other direction, bracing himself into the proper position for sixty-nine.

Taking all of Phelous’s impressive member into his mouth wasn’t easy in any position; fortunately, Phelous seemed to realize that, letting Snob go at his own pace. Good thing, too; the cascade of sensations Snob was getting below decks was really distracting. Phelous’s tongue was warm and wet on him, alternating licking and sucking in just the right measures; meanwhile, the points of the glove were still toying with him, less focused now in their pinpoint-pricking pain but trailing around his groin just to remind him they were there.

God, if he’d ever wondered how a fireplug felt, now he knew; he wanted to come, wanted to release the pressure building in his balls and the heat coiling around his spine, but even if he hadn’t wanted to wait, that constriction around his dick was damned well doing its job. He was hard as a rock, but that pressure wasn’t going anywhere.

Now Phelous was playing with the claws again, trailing one ever so lightly along his balls, digging in just a bit in the fold between thigh and groin, scratching just under his navel. Once in a while he raked hard down a thigh; once, he reached back and pinched a nipple between the point of one and the flat of another. All the while, he kept sucking, lapping, licking, taking Snob’s cock all the way into the back of his throat and working some magic with his tongue.

“Oh, please,” Snob groaned around the tip of Phelous’s dick, “please, please, please . . .”

“Hmm, not yet,” Phelous murmured, letting Snob’s steel-hard dick fall back onto his lower belly. “Damn, you’re good. I’m getting pretty close myself.” He reached forward and tugged at something; suddenly, Snob’s legs were free. “Tuck up your knees,” Phelous ordered as he crawled back off the bed and reached for the lube with his ungloved hand.

Snob did as he was told, and was rewarded with a warm and well-lubed finger at his entrance. “God, if you’re going to fuck me, just go ahead,” he moaned. “I’m ready.”

“Give me a minute to slick you up,” Phelous answered. “Don’t worry, I’m as eager to get in there as you are to have me.” He clicked the glove’s talons together and grinned. “And this time, I can get a better grip than ever.”

Getting the condom on one-handed took slightly longer than Snob would have liked; by the time he settled his heels on Phelous’s shoulders, he was seriously impatient. His dick was throbbing, and it wasn’t just the cockring.

“Ahh,” he gasped as Phelous pushed slowly into him, inch by inch, “I don’t know if I can stand this.”

“Just be good,” Phelous crooned, “be good just a little longer. I promise.”

Snob hissed as Phelous started thrusting; that dick was just the right length to hit the sweet spot on almost every thrust both coming and going. On the third stroke, he felt the claws digging into his shoulder as Phelous tightened his grip.

Oh, that was perfect. That was the exact right balance of pleasure and pain to set every nerve on fire.

“Hurt me,” Snob pleaded.

“With pleasure,” Phelous hissed, and bit him hard where his neck and shoulder met.

He wanted to come, he wanted to let go and blow all the pressure in a fountain of jizz, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, and it felt like the steam was rising through his head instead, like he was floating on a cloud of steam, tethered by the cuffs holding his arms and Phelous’s weight on him; they were the only things keeping him from drifting off skyward like a balloon.

Phelous grunted and picked up the pace. Snob vaguely understood he was going to be nothing but marks tomorrow; the claws bit into one shoulder, Phelous’s teeth were clamped down on the other, and his wrists were straining at the cuffs. It took all the concentration he could muster just to be there, to be present under his lover, to not just let the endorphins take him on a better trip than any drug he’d ever tried.

“Yes,” Phelous whispered in Snob’s ear. Snob slipped his heels from Phelous’s shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist instead, tugging him in closer as Phelous’s head rolled back. He held him with his aching legs as Phelous came, savoring the feel of his dick pulsing in his ass. His own cock twitched in sympathy, pressed tight against Phelous’s stomach.

Phelous sighed and raised himself on slightly trembling arms. “Well,” he drawled, “I have to say, you were pretty good.” He eased himself out of Snob, grabbing a tissue from the bedside and tossing the condom in the wastebasket. “Are you ready?”

Snob didn’t trust himself to speak; he nodded so hard the bed shook.

“All right,” Phelous said, still panting a bit. “Here goes.” He unsnapped the leather loop with his ungloved hand, curled it around Snob’s swollen cock, and started pumping, slowly for the first few strokes, then picking up speed. The clawed hand raked slowly across Snob’s flanks, alternating left and right, high and low.

Snob curled his toes into the blankets and his fingers around the ropes, fighting desperately to hold on. He could hear the blood pounding in his head; the universe seemed to be collapsing to a single point somewhere right around the root of his dick.

He hadn’t noticed Phelous leaning over again. The words “Come for me,” breathed right into his ear, were a surprise.

His dick obeyed before his brain had even processed the order; he was a geyser, a boiler vessel suddenly vented, a volcano under Phelous’s fingers. He barely managed to stop himself from screaming, managing to keep it somewhere between a groan and a roar.

When the blood rushing in his ears had subsided enough for him to hear properly again, Phelous had already undone the ropes for the wrist cuffs and was gently massaging Snob’s fingers. “You kind of pulled pretty hard on these,” he noted.

“I’d like to see you try not to,” Snob snapped back. He took a long, slow, breath; his head was still swimming. “How much of a bloody mess am I?”

“Surprisingly, given how much you were squirming around, I don’t think I actually ever broke skin,” Phelous answered. He cocked his head, inspecting Snob’s bare skin closely. “Lots of pinpoint bruises, a few long ones, and a couple sets of teeth marks. Nothing the suit won’t cover adequately tomorrow, except maybe one of the love bites.”

Shaking his head, Snob peeled off the wrist cuffs. “I’m not sure I believe that. I’m also not sure I can walk to the shower without faceplanting right now,” he complained.

Phelous laughed, then scooped him up in his arms. “Then I’ll carry you over to the mirror, and you can see for yourself,” he scolded Snob mockingly.

“Mmm.” Snob leaned into the crook of Phelous’s arm. “Or I could just go to sleep here,” he mumbled. “That’ll work, too.”

“Let’s at least hose you off before you fall asleep on me,” Phelous suggested. “So you liked the toy?”

“Can’t think of a better one for a pair of horror reviewers,” Snob chuckled. “Even if you have moved on to bootlegs.”

“Hmm,” Phelous pondered aloud. “Bootleg sex toys. Wonder if there’s a review market for that?”

“Dear Lord, I hope not,” Snob said, shuddering, as Phelous set him in the bathtub and then stepped in to join him. As warm water sluiced around his shoulders, he leaned back against his partner’s chest and let himself relax.


End file.
